in," he argued. "We don't know who she is, or what her errand is.
She may mean harm; I've heard of such things, and are we goin' to
see the judge in danger and do nothin'?"

"Oh, the woman's all right," spoke up another voice. "She has a
child with her. Didn't you say she had a child with her, Miss
Weeks?"

"Yes, and--"

"Tell us the whole story, Miss Weeks. Some of us haven't heard it.
Then if it seems our duty as his neighbours and well-wishers to go
in, we'll just go in."

The little woman towards whom this appeal--or shall I say command-
-was directed, flushed a fine colour under so many eyes, but
immediately began her ingenuous tale. She had already related it a
half dozen times into as many sympathising ears, but she was not
one to shirk publicity, for all her retiring manners and meekness
of disposition.

It was to this effect:

She was sitting in her front window sewing. (Everybody knew that
this window faced the end of the lane in which they were then
standing.) The blinds were drawn but not quite, being held in just
the desired position by a string. Naturally, she could see out
without being very plainly seen herself; and quite naturally, too,
since she had watched the same proceeding for years, she had her
eyes on this gate when Bela, prompt to the minute as he always